As we rock the cradle Sky darkens to sable Don't say we're not able to love It's a real miracle singalong At the edge of the lawn With a rocket star pinnacle Pinned to the dawn As we lift up our voices And teeter so tall As if standing on tiptoe Meant anything at all

The rain was falling heavily With rattlesnakes mixed in You had to use an umbrella and lots of anti-venin

The Border Patrol were hot to go So I said "Hell, why not?" The chicks were cool The road a spool of liquor-signs I thought a Navajo I spied as tall as an old saguaro cactus He just waved As we sped by Wearing a cheerful rictus

Down by the Rio Grande all dressed up like a dandy Coyote swung his watch chain and chewed his cocaine candy We watched the drop the lightning fell Then nothing was left standing but a waterfall of millionaires coming in for a landing

Do you find the workweek long? Does it make your tickle tangle? Just comb your hair With breaths of air And you won't ever strangle when Armadillos talk to you down in old Durango

The waterfall, a wheel of fire still stutters through my sight A rolling thing, with butter wings That melted in the night A phoenix then arising when We close our eyes at last

And the mind,they tell usis a chemical phenomenonthat psychopharmacologistswill wind and bindwith chemical tools.They will come up withpills and thrillswill be a thing of the past,And humans will run smoothand fast, and built to last.We will becomethe playthings of anideology bent onnormalcy,The children of the wombrefined in a factoryof certainty,The troublesome orgy of randomnessreduced at last to harmlessness,All watched over by nursemaids paid by the big fatherin his perfectLaboratory

A stranger rode straight into town The fear was in his eyes He gulped a shot and then once more And said, “What I’d advise, Is saddle up and ride as hard and fast As you can ride – There’s Bush riders comin’ Bush riders outta control.”

He didn’t have to say it twice, A mob made for the door, The bartender yelled out, “Last call!” And I called out, “One more.” I had a winning poker hand And had been about to raise When my poker game was ended By the stranger’s maddened phrase –

Yippee-I-O Yippee-I-Ay Bush riders comin', Bush riders outta control.

I might not had a mentioned That I’m from Tennessee So I figured that I’d stick around And see what I could see. I’d seen some ruffians down south With snake-eyes in their souls So I figured I’d get a load of these Bush riders outta control.

The eastern sky turned dark as pitch As they moved toward the west When they hit the edge of town They didn’t stop for gas, Just shifted to a lower gear And yelled as they drove past, “We’re just the advance column, so watch out for your ass.”

And soon we saw what they had meant, It was a dreadful sight. An eclipse came down o’er the town And plunged it into night, And like a wounded animal A siren shrieked in fright. Then Cheney’s voice cried, “Open fire!” And they put out the lights.

The shooting went on all night long While Rumsfeld danced a jig Then out came Condoleezza Riding on a pig. And Cheney with his shotgun Shot friends and foes alike Then the most fearsome among them Stepped right up to the mike.

He had a folksy manner And a kind of Texas drawl He said, “We kicked old Saddam’s ass, And got ourselves a haul, So let’s just do some drinkin’ And all let down our hair, ‘Cause tomorrow when the sun comes up We’ll all be billionaires.”

From where I hid I still could see The clouds above his head, As if an older evil Had took his place instead, With swastikas and murder camps And instruments of dread, It blasted through the megaphones And straight into my head.

Then they raised up a gleaming cross To honor their own dead. The Chief swept off his cowboy hat And placed it on his chest. He said, “These boys have died for us And the values we hold best, Now send their parents letters And burn ‘em like the rest.”

When they broke camp there wasn’t much They hadn’t broke or stole. Just fire, wreckage, ruin And the smell of burning oil. ‘Cause underneath that Christian hide there lurks a demon soul, Who let the devils out of hell With just two words, “Let’s roll!”

And if ya turn on the radio, Whatta they say? They’re givin’ billionaire bankers bonus pay, They say ya can’t say no, It’s the American way,

So BUY AMERICAN DIE AMERICAN BUY AMERICAN, HEY, HEY, HEY, HEY!

One more Monday night in Afghanistan, Kids try to do their homework without hands There’s an enemy around here somewhere, We gotta draw a line in the sand, I wonder why they hate us? We’ve killed all that we can.

Dirt tracks footstepped all over by the marchinglines of beingsDeer tracks with little piles of deer shit here and there like shrinesCow tracks, heavy trodden down hooved over sod dried flops of undigested fiberCity streets, winding highways, stinking riversSewage treatment plants blowing plumes of flaming methane in the darkPoisonous clouds, grimy windows, callused hands, sore throatsCity window lights, shower stalls, bedrooms, televisionsBare spots on the carpet, holey linoleumThreadbare cuffs, blinking eyeballGrease spattered on the stove, dusty television screenMildewed shower curtain, empty pill bottle, cat whiskers the television widow crochets a bedroom of lace the sun streams always over the coverletsSingularly lost amid the clutter of wiresBranching bouquets of wandering flowers Through the mesh and the web of the undertaker puppeteer Invisible paths trace unheard-of symmetriesWorking into a dark nucleusWaiting as in Before the Yet To Come